


Sanatorium

by gaugelargo



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-neutral Reader, Hurt, M/M, shoutout to the monster fuckers, sorry if my writing is bad i wrote half of this in an episode and the other half while stoned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29546628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaugelargo/pseuds/gaugelargo
Summary: The reader has to cope with a monstrous stalker, on top of everything else going wrong in their life.
Relationships: Eyeless Jack/Original Character(s), Eyeless Jack/Reader, Eyeless Jack/You
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

I am sitting in wait at the Emergency Room, and I know I don’t belong here. I’m not wounded, I’m in no pain. I’m present enough to know I don’t belong here, but it wasn’t my choice.  
I was hoping I'd be in and out quickly, but I've been the only person waiting for half an hour. At first, I just thought the lady at the counter didn't notice me; until I breathed a bit too loud and she shot me a glare. Suddenly the tension was thick and I got so conscious of the silence that I could hear a fly drop from the air.

I finally stood and approached the counter. "Um, sorry but-,"

"Sit back down." Her voice sounded as if she swallowed a cup of push pins for breakfast.

I whispered another "Sorry," before awkwardly walking back to my seat.

After a bit more painful wait, a nurse in all black scrubs comes through one of the doors.

"[Name]?" She calls as if there are more people in here she may be asking for.

"That's me."

She pulls me into a smaller room and sits me on another chair, this time in front of a desk. I look at the nurse's name tag; her name is Mary. After sitting behind the desk, she asks me why I’m here.

“I don't know. You tell me, Mary.”

She sighs and looks down at a paper packet on the desk. “Why do you think you’re here?"

“Not sure,” I look around nonchalantly. She stares at me until I softly groan then continue.

“I’m suicidal?”

“You’re a danger to others more than yourself, [Name]. Tell me again why you think you’re here.”

Her persistence makes me more annoyed. “You seem to already know.”

She didn't respond and I began fidgeting and looking at the ground. Honestly, I knew why I was here. I didn't think I deserved to be here, but I knew why they thought I did. The entire situation was aggravating enough to make me not confess, though.

"[Name]." 

"I'm not supposed to be here. I know you don't give a shit and just want your check, I'll be the one trapped here while you go home to your nice, average life. It doesn't matter what I say."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're right. It doesn't matter,"

I interrupted her with a scoff. Mary waited a moment before continuing, "But I think it would benefit you to own up to why you're here in the first place. You can't change if you can't admit the problem."

Once again as silence filled the room, I was suddenly more conscious of every breath I took, every sound, and every movement. Unfortunately, I think she may be right; I just didn't want to think about what got me here. I suppose it had to be confronted. Maybe if I acted like I was moving forward from it, they'd let me leave.

"Alright," I sighed, my leg bouncing anxiously and my eyes glued to the floor. "I think it started a couple of months ago. The whole day felt off, and when I tried to sleep that night, I ended up sitting awake staring out the window until sunrise — I guess I saw something strange out there."

"What did you see?" She was writing something down as I spoke.

"I don't know. I mean, I know what I saw. Just... Not what it was."

She gave me a tilted look as if asking for details.

"It was tall. Almost as tall as the trees. It was standing right outside the woods. It was white as snow and I couldn't make out any facial features, it didn't seem to have hair either. I think it was wearing a suit too..."

Her eyebrows were furrowed. I started to get nervous as I spat out, "I know it sounds dumb but I saw it."

"No, it's not dumb." Mary spoke as she stared at the paper she was writing on, "It's just odd because another one of our patients described the same thing."

"Really?"

She fell silent for a moment before changing the subject, asking me to describe everything else that happened.

I told her all of it, maybe now just hoping someone else has experienced the same. It would make me feel a lot less crazy... Even if the person is kept here.

"The day after I saw it, I slept in until around noon when my friend woke me up calling me. She told me my..." I choked on my words. She only waited patiently for me to continue. Struggling to find the words to properly describe it without triggering myself, I did my best. "My boyfriend passed away. Did it to himself. It didn't make any sense to me and still doesn't. He struggled a lot, but he was finally at a point in his life where he was recovering."

Her words suddenly became much more gentle. "Sometimes the signs aren't obvious."

"Well yeah," I snapped, "But we were fucking dating. We lived together, we did everything together for years. It doesn't make sense."

She was silent. I continued.

"Whatever. After that, a lot of weird things kept happening. That thing was outside my window every night. It has an... Energy. It makes you want to hurt yourself and," I hesitated, slumping in my chair, "others."

...

"I didn't though. I never hurt anyone."

She avoided looking at me.

I glared. "I didn't. I know I didn't and wouldn't hurt anyone."

She tapped her pen against the desk absentmindedly, "Continue."

"...I didn't hurt anyone. I hurt myself a lot though. Actually, whenever it made me want to hurt anyone, I'd hurt myself instead. I didn't need to though, the world started to seem to do that for me. Everyone around me started... Passing away. They'd do it to themselves, it'd be an accident, one of my friends got fucking murdered; I had to watch."

I groaned, "I know you think I did it. Everyone thinks so. But I know what I saw that night. I haven't slept since."

"And," She cleared her throat and flipped through her papers, "You said you saw a monster?"

"I guess. It wasn't human."

"Right." Mary didn't believe me, I could tell she didn't believe me.

"Please." I tried to drop the anger for a second, "I know what I saw. The man wore a blue mask, but his hands and neck were completely grey. I saw him lift the mask slightly so he could... Eat. His teeth were as sharp as knives. I had to watch him eat her."

"Why wouldn't he have 'eaten' you too?"

The anger returned. "I ask myself that every night. How the fuck would I know what goes through that killer's head?"

She shifts for a moment before quietly continuing to write things down. I stared at her, growing impatient until finally, I lost it. I started screaming.

"Do you really think I could do that to someone? That ANY human could do that to someone? Have you fucking seen me?"

"I've doubted what some people like you were capable of in the past." she remained calm, making me realize I genuinely was acting a bit crazy.

I wanted to cry. I knew it was hopeless. All I could do now was submit, even though I know it was all real. "Fine. I can't change your mind so what's the point. Just admit me already."

A hospital bracelet was harshly slapped on my wrist, and I'm once again in the waiting room; this time with a clipboard holding a few papers I must fill out. I spend about an hour filling out an unreasonable amount of questions. Just as I'm on my last three, I hear a scream. Judging by the direction; it came from the office behind the counter that normally held the mean lady I encountered earlier, now gone.

A normal person (as if I would know) would've left it because the staff must’ve heard it. But I waited for a short moment and saw no one around, and my curiosity got the better of me.

I quietly approach the door behind the counter which has been left cracked open. I can hear a weird faint sloshing sound and breathing. Only now was I starting to feel scared, but at this point, I'm more afraid of being framed for murder again.

Pushing open the door, I feel the sickest sense of relief.

The man in the mask is hunched over the woman, eating her organs while she struggles with her last breaths. I was desensitized and less affected by the gore than I was by the familiarity. He had heard the door creak when it opened though, so this little reunion I was having was cut short.

He pounces on me, pinning me against the staff's side of the desk. His mask is lifted slightly to show the blood dripping from his sharp teeth. I was frozen. Suddenly, we both heard the sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway and I feel him freeze too. A part of me hopes he kills me so I get out of here, another part of me is praying — to a God I’ve never cared to believe in — that I’m saved.

He could’ve killed me right there. I was frozen beneath him, stiffening more with every drop of blood that fell from his mouth onto my face and chest. I anticipated it even more once the footsteps reached us and I saw no staff member, but a monster even less human than the one on top of me. A dark, feathery figure with elongated limbs and claws. It seemed to wear a stitched, blood-soaked mask with one eyehole over its beaked face.

But he didn’t, and neither did the other beast. Instead, he released his hold on me and they fled. I had to get up and check on everyone else in the ward, but I was still nervous I’d be blamed again. All my anxiety and worries at once numbed me, and as my vision faded black, I embraced it. I could use a nap.


	2. Chapter 2

"[Name]?"

"[Name]? Wake up..." I slowly woke from a groggy sleep, an unfamiliar voice filling my ears. Who? What? Where? I groaned as my eyes refused to open. "Ugh..."

"Oh, [Name]!

I jolted upright, coming face to face with a stranger. He looked about my age and had disheveled black hair, brown eyes heavy with exhaustion, and he wore the grey sweatpants and plain black t-shirt the ward gives you — He was a patient. “Wha… Huh?,” I went to rub my eyes before noticing the bits of blood on my hands. Oh, that’s right. When the strange boy didn’t respond, (he seemed to be stuck on what to say) I met his gaze, “Who are you? How do you know me?”

“I’m Charlie. Sorry if I startled you; I got your name from your wristband.”

I looked down and fidgeted with it. “Oh yeah.”

“You… Saw them, right?”

“The monster-things?”

He nodded. “They got all of the people here but us. I looked everywhere, they’re,” he stiffened, “They’re dead. If it weren’t for how they tore everyone else open, I wouldn’t have known you were alive.”

“…What do we do now?”

“I was going to leave if you wanted to come with.”

“But the bodies…”

“What would we do? Tell the police and just get locked up somewhere else?”

“It would look more suspicious if we’re on record and they don’t find our bodies.”

He grinned and held up a small stack of papers, “These records?” I returned the smile and he stood up and offered a hand before pulling me up too. After attempting to brush off the blood on me like dirt, I froze up again. So much was happening at once that my brain kept frying. I found myself pondering,  
Why did those things leave only us?  
What were they?  
…Was Charlie the patient who saw the tall creature too?

As he guided me out of the ward I was forced to take in the morbid state of things. I wanted to ask about what he’s seen, but something was holding me back. We passed a familiar room and I stopped to look inside. When I got close enough, I saw a body behind the desk: Mary, with her entrails spilled and an expression as hollow as she was. I wish I wasn't desensitized. It would've been strangely comforting if I was visibly disgusted and ran away, instead of walking closer to the corpse to get a better look. To do so only made me feel crazier. 

My thoughts were interrupted by Charlie mumbling behind me, "So gross." 

"It's so... clean." The body seemed to be steadily carved and emptied, unlike how an animal would tear something open. 

"Only some. The one in the blue mask used a little sharp thing and harvested the organs. The feathery one was just eating them." 

I turned to face him. "You saw?"

"Didn't you?"

"Not that much. The masked one pinned me down as soon as I saw him, then I passed out." He looked around. I wanted to know what he knew, but did I really? I was still struggling to process everything I've seen myself, and something told me we shared similar trauma. I said nothing as I left the room. He looked at the corpse one last time before following. 

Before we left the Ward, I paused at the exit to get his phone number, and then we parted ways. I suppose it was a good thing the few people in my life were all dying off because at least I didn't have to explain to anyone why I left early. The walk home felt like I was moving on auto-pilot, barely realizing when I finally reached the door of my apartment. Given this state, I only realized after entering and looking in a mirror that the masked man had gotten blood all over me. If only I was paying enough attention to catch the looks of disgust and confusion from people during my walk. Maybe the amusement would've made the bloody shower I had to take worth it.

The next few days were an anxious type of silence, the kind that causes you to hear things that aren't there — or maybe I just felt more comfortable believing it's my imagination. I started to worry more and more about the Ward. Ironically, I was more paranoid about somehow being framed for all the deaths than I was about the things that had really killed them.

The following weeks passed by peacefully and my paranoia became less and less overwhelming. The mass murder at the Ward was all over the news. Investigators were interviewed on one of the channels and they said (with some uncertainty) it must have been one or more animals due to the gruesome pattern of attacks that no human would be capable of doing. I didn't understand how anyone could believe that, but it seemed like the police were holding back on telling everyone just how intense the scene was.

* * *

I was getting my morning cup of coffee. From the window above my kitchen sink, I could see the promising florid orange of the sunrise peeking through the gaps in the trees that surrounded my house. Still waking up, I mindlessly stared at the beauty for a moment. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye, I saw him: The masked, monstrous killer. That woke me up faster than the coffee could've.

As soon as I saw him coming through the trees I started to run through the house and lock every door or window. Once I was sure I had gotten everything, I returned to the kitchen, grabbed a knife from the drawer, and looked outside. He wasn't there. Only the small wildlife stirring within the woods. But it was more terrifying to not see him. It couldn't be a coincidence that he's emerging from the trees into my backyard. He must have come to finish me off. If he was no longer in my line of sight, I can't predict his movements, and I can't defend myself. The longer I stood in silence, the more anxious I felt.

"You forgot the garage door." A deep, gravelly voice starts behind me.

I should've swung the knife behind me right away. I would've still lost — he was twice my size and clearly more than human — but I should've had better reflexes. Instead, I hesitated then stumbled. He grabbed the knife then my arms and forced me to the ground on my stomach. I tried to scream or plead but I was too in shock. If I somehow get out of this alive, I thought, I need self-defense classes. I glanced behind me to see him lowering onto his knees, still hovering over me only now so invasively that all I could hear was his breathing; which seemed to become heavier the closer he got. He cautiously lifted his hands off of me and this time, I reacted immediately and tried to make a break for it — only for his hands to clutch my ankles and pull me back under him before grabbing a handful of my hair and bashing my head against the tile floor. 

I was too dizzy and defeated to fuss as the knife came flying down into my ankle. It didn't stop there, though, and he continued to remove the knife before making more and more wounds across both legs until I was surely unable to stand. I was in enough pain to manage sound out now but I didn't want to make him angrier, so I only choked on my whimpers as I held back screams. 

"Be calm and I won't hurt you." 

His words only caused more whimpers to escape me, but I managed to nod in agreeance. He got up and left my sight for a minute before returning with a few cables he found and tying my wrists with them. I heard him mumble, "Just to be sure." 

At this point, I expected to bleed out and die. My vision was getting blurrier and my body went numb with pain. When he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, the blood rushing to my head only made it harder to stay conscious. I can only make out us leaving the house and heading into the woods before accepting the darkness that flooded my vision.


End file.
